his Marianne, discover great refinement of thought, great penetration into human nature, and paint with a very delicate pencil, some of the nicest shades and features in the distinction of characters. The Nouvelle Heloise of Rousseau is a production of a very singular kind; in many of the events which are related, improbable and unnatural; in some of the details tedious, and for some of the scenes which are described justly blameable; but withal, for the power of eloquence, for tenderness of sentiment, for ardour of passion, entitled to rank among the highest productions of Fictitious History.

In this kind of Writing we are, it must be confessed, in Great Britain, inferior to the French. We neither relate so agreeably, nor draw characters with so much delicacy; yet we are not without some performances which discover the strength of the British genius. No fiction, in any language, was ever better supported than the Adventures of Robinson Crusoe. While it is carried on with that appearance of truth and simplicity, which takes a strong hold of the imagination of all Readers, it suggests, at the same time, very useful instruction; by shewing how much the native powers of man may be exerted for surmounting the difficulties of any external situation. Mr. Fielding's Novels are highly distinguished for their humour; a humour which, if not of the most refined and delicate kind, is original, and peculiar to himself. The characters which he draws are lively and natural, and marked with the strokes of a bold pencil. The general scope of his stories is favourable to humanity and goodness of heart; and in Tom Jones, his greatest work, the artful conduct of the fable, and the subserviency of all the incidents to

the winding up of the whole, deserve much praise. The most moral of all our Novel Writers is Richardson, the Author of Clarissa, a writer of excellent intentions, and of very considerable capacity and genius; did he not possess the unfortunate talent of spinning out pieces of amusement into an immeasurable length. The trivial performances which daily appear in pub lic under the title of Lives, Adventures, and Histories, by anonymous Authors, if they be often innocent, yet are most commonly insipid; and though in the general it ought to be admitted that Characteristical Novels, formed upon Nature and upon Life, without extravagance, and without licentiousness, might furnish an agreeable and useful entertainment to the mind; yet considering the manner in which these Writings have been, for the most part, con. ducted, it must also be confessed, that they oftener tend to dissipation and idleness, than to any good purpose. Let us now, therefore, make our retreat from these regions of fiction.

I HAVE now finished my observations on the different kinds of Writing in Prose. What remains is, to treat of Poetical Composition. Before entering on

the consideration of any of its particular kinds, I design this Lecture as an Introduction to the subject of Poetry in general; wherein I shall treat of its nature, give an account of its origin, and make some observations on Versification, or Poetical Numbers.

Our first enquiry must be, what is Poetry? and wherein does it differ from Prose? The answer to this question is not so easy as might at first be imagined; and Critics have differed and disputed much concerning the proper definition of Poetry. Some have made its essence to consist in fiction, and support their opinion by the authority of Aristotle and Plato. But this is certainly too limited a definition; for though fiction may have a great share in many Poetical Compositions, yet many subjects of Poetry may not be feigned; as where the Poet describes objects which actually exist, or pours forth the real sentiments of his own heart. Others have made the characteristic of Poetry to lie in imitation. But this is altogether loose; for several other arts imitate as well as Poetry; and an imitation of human manners and characters, may be carried on in the humblest Prose, no less than in the more lofty Poetic strain.

The most just and comprehensive definition which, I think, can be given of Poetry, is, "That it is the "language of passion, or of enlivened imagination, "formed, most commonly, into regular numbers." The Historian, the Orator, the Philosopher, address themselves, for the most part, primarily to the understanding: their direct aim is to inform, to persuade, or to instruct. But the primary aim of a Poet is to please, and to move; and, therefore, it is to the Imagination, and the Passions, that he speaks. He may, and he ought to have it in his view, to instruct

and to reform; but it is indirectly, and by pleasing and moving, that he accomplishes this end. His mind is supposed to be animated by some interesting object which fires his Imagination, or engages his Passions; and which, of course, communicates to his Style a peculiar elevation suited to his ideas ; very different from that mode of expression, which is natural to the mind in its calm, ordinary state. I have added to my definition, that this language of Passion, or imagination, is formed, most commonly, into regular numbers; because, though Versification be, in general, the exterior distinction of Poetry, yet there are some forms of Verse so loose and familiar, as to be hardly distinguishable from Prose; such as the Verse of Terence's Comedies; and there is also a species of Prose, so measured in its cadence, and so much raised in its tone, as to approach very near to Poetical Numbers; such as the Telemachus of Fenelon; and the English Translation of Ossian. The truth is, Verse and Prose, on some occasions, run into one another, like light and shade. It is hardly possible to determine the exact limit where Eloquence ends, and Poetry begins; nor is there any occasion for being very precise about the boundaries, as long as the nature of each is understood. These are the minutiae of Criticism, concerning which frivolous Writers are always disposed to squabble; but which deserve not any particular discussion. The truth and justness of the definition, which I have given of Poetry, will appear more fully from the account which I am now to give of its origin, and which will tend to throw light on much of what I am afterwards to deliver, concerning its various kinds.

The Greeks, ever fond of attributing to their own nation the invention of all sciences and arts, have ascribed the origin of Poetry to Orpheus, Linus, and Musæus. There were, perhaps, such persons as these, who were the first distinguished bards in the Grecian Countries. But long before such names were heard of, and among nations where they were never known, Poetry existed. It is a great error to imagine, that Poetry and Music are Arts which belong only to polished nations. They have their foundation in the nature of man, and belong to all nations, and to all ages; though, like other arts founded in nature, they have been more cultivated, and, from a concurrence of favourable circumstances, carried to greater perfection in some countries, than in others. In order to explore the rise of Poetry, we must have recourse to the deserts and the wilds; we must go back to the age of hunters and of shep. herds; to the highest antiquity: and to the simplest form of manners among mankind.

It has been often said, and the concurring voice of all antiquity affirms, that Poetry is older than Prose. But in what sense this seemingly strange Paradox holds true, has not always been well understood. There never, certainly, was any period of society in which men conversed together in Poetical numbers. It was in very humble and scanty Prose, as we may easily believe, that the first tribes carried on intercourse among themselves, relating to the wants and necessities of life. But from the very beginning of Society, there were occasions on which they met together for feasts, sacrifices, and public assemblies; and on all such occasions, it is well known, that music, song, and dance, made their